


Not Your Kind of Monster

by ectoBisexual



Category: Free!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Biting, Dirty Talk, M/M, Monster!Makoto, Rimming, Sort of? - Freeform, Teeth, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoBisexual/pseuds/ectoBisexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's the thing about trying to balance your personal life with school: it's draining. Divide half your time worrying about school, and the other half worrying about personal matters: self care, interests, dating, and being a monster included.<br/>Or: Makoto's got a secret, and Haru finds out the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for my current fave person ever! Thanks heaps bb, writing for you was a pleasure! (●´∀｀●∩)
> 
> "The first one was Makoto from Free! being a half-human half-wolfman. The majority of the time he can control which form he's in but under very specific circumstances he can change uncontrollably. In his wolf form he would pretty much still have the same personality except he gets a bit more aggressive and his voice gets lower. I would also like it to be a MakoHaru AU! Maybe they meet in college and start dating and Makoto tries really hard to keep his wolfman form a secret, but Haru finds out. Cue really intense Monster!Makoto sex with Haru haha."
> 
> Read abt my commission info here: http://www.quotev.com/cometghost/journal/1477575/Andys-Official-Commissions-Page/  
> Or contact me on tumblr @cloverguts ::)

Here's the thing about trying to balance your personal life with school: it's draining.

Makoto Tachibana knew more than anyone that in order to maintain a healthy sense of the self and avoid failing his classes, there had to be balance. Divide half your time worrying about school, and the other half worrying about personal matters: self care, interests, dating, and being a monster included.

It got kind of hard. The. Monster thing.

Makoto was not a very aggressive person. He didn't like to fight, or cause trouble for anybody. He especially didn't like the thought that he could potentially harm or frighten innocent people just because of a genetic thing he couldn't control. It was hard enough growing up around lore; wolfmen lore, werewolf lore, stories about humans with canine-like characteristics that were violent and bloodthirsty and above all, unable to lead ordinary lives. 

To say the least, Makoto begged to differ.

It had been harder when he was younger. The throes of puberty up against raging Alpha hormones. He hated it because he didn't understand it. He was growing so fast, he was hungry all the time. Some humans gave off a particular A/B/O vibe and that was just the  _worst_ when he was trying to be normal, trying to blend in. He was a sweet guy. His friends often joked that he was too motherly for his own good and one day he would just snap but oh, the irony in that. In what the moon's phases could do to him.

He went to a support group back then. Just some relatives and strangers that didn't rely on pack mentality. Most of them came from long lines of stuffy ancestors who wanted them to make something of themselves but really they were just a bunch of kids. They did what any other kids did, only more in time with the moon phases. Waning normally meant more gettogethers to blow off steam. Makoto had often become withdrawn earlier than the others when it became close to a full moon. More because he was embarrassed than anything.

Again, Makoto was a sweet guy, he didn't  _like_ being aggressive. Changing meant the teeth and the attitude and the lower, intimidating voice. Sure he didn't exactly get all hairy like some of the other Alphas he knew-- god help their poor ever-waxing souls. And he learnt quickly to control his Changes, so that they only ever happened involuntarily under a full moon (during which he was always happily indoors and busy distracting himself, thank you very much) or when the dreaded smell of pheromones got too much and. Yeah, that was actually a problem.

It was still a problem in his adult life, which is why he spent so much time around humans in the first place. Betas were common and the scent of them had always made Makoto's body go into overdrive trying to formulate his thoughts and actions in the nature of an Alpha. He would always feel bad later, apologising profusely and asking to make sure he hadn't been too bossy, too pushy or rude.

It had always confused some of the younger Betas; wasn't that  _supposed_ to be Makoto's role? He was torn. Scandalised.

"Moody," his mother called it. She was an Omega and Makoto thought she'd always wanted an Omega child but she'd gotten him and his siblings. Nearly teenagers now, Ran had presented as an Alpha last year, Ren diligently trying to keep up as always.

He could control himself around Betas, but Omegas-- and it had always been a problem with Omega  _boys,_ much to his pubescent self's horror-- had much more of a distinct smell and he couldn't be around them anywhere near the peak in their heat cycles. He couldn't help whether he Changed or not, and was always horrified to think that he might lash out, or in the least humiliate himself by being bossy and aggressive.

So he didn't really. Hang around his own kind anymore. He had grown up a fairly respectable Alpha but kept it under wraps with the knowledge that he wouldn't--couldn't-- stick around. He still visited, and although rare it wasn't unheard of for him to catch a scent once in a while of his kind, probably in the same situation as him and living alone in Tokyo to escape the pressure of finding a pack.

Sometimes he caught the scent of a human who smelled like a wolf. He didn't know why. Speculation had him believing it was usually a human with natural A/B/O tendencies, or one who spent a lot of time around animals. Whatever it was was deep, hot, animalistic. He couldn't control himself. It was  _shameful._

It had led more than a few times to him having to cancel plans with friends and hide away at home, teeth out and chest heaving, flushed and anxious for hours while the Alpha hormones left him, and once it had led to a pretty hilariously failed one night stand. (It wasn't like Makoto did that kind of thing very often, but still. The guy had left screaming about "teeth" and "I totally heard him growl", and for about a week a rumour had spread around campus that the guy was crazy. Makoto had laughed off the werewolf and the "too wild in bed" comments, as embarrassed as they had made him, and after a while they stopped.)

So despite its drawbacks, it was a life Makoto had grown accustomed to. Alpha or not he was just an unassuming college student trying to build a future for himself.

"Crap, crap, crap," he muttered, swinging the door shut behind him as he entered his apartment and flung his bag. His professor had droned on way longer than necessary; at this rate he was going to be late for his date.

Makoto sifted through his drawers carelessly, discarding shirts at random while he tried to find something to wear. The guy he was going out with, Nanase, had a keen eye for the aesthetic and never looked anything less than stunning himself, though it was clear it wasn't something he actively thought about. Makoto had met him in the literature class he was taking a minor in, when Nanase had been asked to read Rossetti poetry out loud. Quiet and unassuming, he was the kind of guy that Makoto expected to stutter, but his voice had been as calm and as smooth as water, a dart and tantalizing, ebbing motion; Makoto had fallen for him embarrassingly quickly.

He had considered going and confessing, but dismissed the idea on the grounds that he wasn't in high school anymore and that kind of thing just wasn't acceptable.  _He had_ gone and asked if Nanase-kun-might-like-to-get-coffee-on-the-way-to-class-some-time, in that testing the waters, it-totally-doesn't-have-to-be-a-date way of his, when Nanase had looked him in the eyes and bluntly said, "If you want to ask me out, you should be more direct about it."

So they'd gone out. Their first date had been a cafe and involved a lot of awkward small talk before Nanase became comfortable and started to talk about himself more. They talked for hours, and then on the way back home they spotted an arcade and went in there and Makoto had gotten to see the guy _giggle_ ; it was all downhill from there.

At the front door to his apartment, Nanase had looked him in the eyes and said, "Are you going to kiss me now or will I have to do it first?" He had tasted like caramel coffee, a sweet flavour Makoto had thought he might never get used to.

He was just slipping on the jacket he picked when there was a knock at the door, and he had to remind himself to keep calm. Week off from a full moon. You'll be fine, Tachibana.

He opened the door and found himself breathless at the sight of Nanase, petulant and impatient save for what Makoto recognised to be a glimmer of nervousness in his eyes. Anticipation.

"Are you ready to go?"


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride there had Makoto's nerves frying on end. He hadn't expected to be so anxious, but the weight of his feelings were slowly putting a strain on things. Was the restaurant he picked too flashy? Was the fact that  _he_ had picked the restaurant in the first place too Alpha?

"You're thinking too much."

Makoto jumped. He then sighed, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. "Sorry, it's just-- Nanase--"

"You can call me by my first name," he interrupted. "Really, you've had your tongue down my throat and you're talking like we're strangers."

Makoto was blushing fiercely. "I- I haven't."

"Right," Nanase deadpanned, and from the corner of his eye Makoto could see him fluttering his lashes, "why haven't you?"

The car went quiet as Makoto attempted to right his frantic heartbeat. His face was burning; it wouldn't do at all for him to get too excited and Change, so he focussed on willing himself to calm down. Nanase spoke.

"Haruka."

"I- I'm sorry?"

"Haruka. It's my name. You can call me by it."

"A-ah, so I'm not the only..." Makoto's sentence trailed off _. The only one with a feminine name_ , he had been going to say, but Nanase looked like he wanted to kill him. He drummed his fingers happily on the steering wheel.

"Haru-chan, then."

To his surprise, the man's face went red. "Chan," he said-- almost squeaked. "That's-- how do you say such embarrassing things with a straight face, seriously."

"Do you not like it?" Makoto asked. "Is it too intimate?"

Haru's answer came barely audible, but it was still there. "No, it's alright."

The restaurant was a quiet, expensive Western place a little way's back from the college, with dim lighting and lots of booths. The dim lighting and booths were  _why_ Makoto had picked it. Not for any dirty reasons; it was just that-- he'd noticed-- Haru scared easily and he seemed to like his privacy. (Apparently, that didn't extend to stripping off in public to swim in the university's communal fountain, and seriously, he thought he'd imagined it, but the guy really did wear jammers under all of his clothes. And Makoto thought  _he_ was the weirdest part of their equation.)

"You okay?" questioned Haru as they came into the building. Waiting for their table, Makoto had unthinkingly started to rock back and forward on his feet.

"Ah- I'm fine," he replied, albeit uneasily. Haru didn't look convinced. Still, he said nothing as they were led to their booth, although he did give Makoto a suggestive glance at the particular choice in seating.

Maybe he was getting sick, Makoto reasoned. He tried to feel for the temperature of his forehead without Haru noticing.

"Hot?"

"I- I'm sorry?"

Haru smiled into the back of his hand. "Is your temperature high, Makoto?"

Oh-- he shrugged noncommittally, not wanting the other to worry.

"I'm sure it's nothing. Do you want to have a look at the menu?"

Haru did. They ordered quickly, Makoto declining alcohol  with vigour. He was flushed enough as it was; the last thing he needed was for Haru to accuse him of  _blushing._

"You still look kind of concussed," the shorter remarked, narrowing his eyes at Makoto. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Makoto opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by their waitress, delivering their drinks with almost frightening cheer. He breathed out in relief, hoping the fact had been enough to distract Haru.

"...You're nervous."

Makoto placed his drink down on the table.

"I'm fine, Haru, really. You don't have to worry about me."

"I made it weird. With the. Name thing."

"You didn't. I like your name. It's--" pretty, he was going to say, but stopped himself. Was that rude? Belittling? Was it too Alpha of him to say?

Haru seemed to have gotten the message nonetheless, flushed face hidden behind his drink, so Makoto said, "I likeyou."

"I should hope so. "

"I mean it. I'm happy to be out with you tonight."

Haru looked at him. "General 'like' or middle school  _like_ like?"

"There's a difference?" Makoto teased. Haru was glowering.

"You know there is."

"Like like," Makoto answered, humming in thought and hiding his smile behind his glass. He felt impish suddenly, playful, as if he should test the waters. "I like you a lot, Haru-chan. Ever since you read out loud in class."

It worked. Haru's blush was full body now, and Makoto watched bemusedly as he tried to drink it away.

"Again with the 'chan'. You're such an embarrassing guy, Makoto."

Makoto just smiled.

Their meals came soon enough, and the atmosphere became more palpable. It felt easy now, slipping into conversation, working and prodding at Haru to open him up. Haru got closer as the evening went on, and by the time they had finished their meals he was practically in Makoto's lap, head down close and legs bushing.

Oddly, Makoto felt that the more comfortable he got with Haru, the more on edge he felt himself. It was odd; he couldn't put his finger on it, why he was so out of control. His head felt foggy, thoughts slipping through like water, his mind thick like it was stuffed with cotton. And he felt  _hot_. The more he got Haru to talk, to smile, the warmer his cheeks felt; as if he'd been drinking, a punch-drunk flush.

He still couldn't place the feeling when, hours later, Haru began talking lower and softer, head bent close to Makoto's.

"I'm not good at talking about how I feel."

"Oh-- it's no problem, Haru, I don't mind."

"No, it's-- I've thought about you. A lot, since we met. When you confessed--"

"I didn't confess--"

"I was really surprised, but id didn't upset me. Normally that kind of thing does."

He breathed out. Makoto felt jittery, like his blood was humming softly beneath his skin.

Haru continued, "I knew who you were. I'd seen you in class, around campus before. I thought you seemed interesting." He was definitely blushing now. Makoto didn't know what to do. He sat there, stunned. Haru's hand clenched in and out of a fist.

"I wanted to get to know you. To become close to you. It was strange for me-- I never usually want that, or even care. I thought you were very genuine. Even now, like you might... protect me." He met Makoto's gaze with his own, blue crashing with green. "I trust you."

 _You shouldn't,_ Makoto almost said, but opted out of the cliché. His face felt hot.

"I can't stop thinking about you. And it's bothering me. So." He huffed in a deep breath. "Please take me home with you tonight."

Makoto's breath caught. "Haru--"

"I'm not good at the kissing thing," he said, and the look in his eyes was so raw and pleading that Makoto couldn't help himself.

He leant in, pressing his mouth to Haru's. The sensation of the other relaxing in his arms, pliant and unyielding, emboldened Makoto; forgetting all sense of decency, including where they were, he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, swallowing up the soft noise made by Haru, tongue hot against his, necks brushing, and oh. That was...

Makoto pulled away, gasping to catch his breath. Haru's face had gone all flushed again, and there was a glassy look in his eyes, his lips red and damp. But Makoto couldn't stop thinking it now, chest heaving with the realisation. His scent. It was Haru's scent.

He smelled,  _overwhelmingly,_ like an Omega.

"U-um," he said, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Makoto," Haru pressed, "it would be really shameful if the guy I had fallen for couldn't even look me in the eye after he'd kissed me."

"F...fallen for..." he repeated, distracted. His eyes were wide. He could feel his shoulders, squared, trembling. The sweet smell. The  _taste._ How had he not noticed it before?

"Makoto?"

It wasn't that he couldn't look at him. It was the fear, bone deep and integrated as a part of him, fear at the size of his pupils, at his teeth, already aching to lengthen, sharpen. He looked at Haru, hoping his expression could be mistaken for simple want, and not the deeply animalistic thing that it was. The moment his gaze crashed with Haru's he realised it had been a bad idea. Haru's pupils were the size of the moon, his cheeks dusted pink, lips still parted. Vulnerable. He  _reeked_ of Omega pheromones. Horrified, Makoto felt his teeth start to retract; his throat tightened and panic flared like wildfire.

"I'm. Um. I have to. Yeah."

He dashed away from their booth without another word.

Everything was a mess of heat after that. Like a fever dream, he threw way too much money at the poor waitress, throwing himself out the double doors and into the cool night. The air bit at his skin, doing nothing still to cool the flush on his cheeks. The moon was out, high in the sky; it was only third-quarter, but Makoto could  _feel_ it. He wanted to turn around and go back in, to push Haru down on the table and  _take._ His eyes darted, desperate for an escape. He had to get away. Had to--

"Makoto!"

The voice stopped him. Senses heightened, he could hear him, the gentle thud of his sneakers against the pavement as he jogged to catch up with Makoto. Makoto kept walking, slowing down only a little in his hesitation.

Haru broke into a sprint right before he had the chance to pass the alley.

He came to a halt, frame shaking as he waited for Haru to approach him. The other did so carelessly, panting a little with the exertion of the run. The scent was coming off of him in waves now, choking Makoto. He made a pitiful noise as his teeth came loose and retracted, hands flying to his face. Haru almost stopped walking.

"Makoto," he said. Makoto couldn't look at him. He did nothing but whine, a low noise in the back of his throat, when Haru seized him by the elbow and spun his body inwards. His breath caught.

"Your eyes," he said, squinting. "Your pupils are kind of..."

"Haru," he warned. Blue eyes widened.

"Are you feeling alright? Why did you run out? Makoto, your voice is all..."

"Haru, you should go back to the restaurant."

A pause. He exhaled, shaky. "Deep," Haru finished.

He tugged at Makoto's wrist. When he did it a second time, Makoto whined, and after a third his hand came loose and gave way to Haru's frantic pulling. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his lips clamped shut, and parted them to suck in a breath. Haru's eyes were bugging out of his skull now.

"Haru, listen--"

"Your  _teeth,_ " the other breathed, and humiliation flooded Makoto. He wanted to cry, to run, but more than anything--

The scent hit him in the face so quickly it was dizzying. More than anything he wanted to seize Haru by the arms and kiss him and never stop.  _God._ He could have sobbed at the shiver that wracked him, the full body surge of heat that dropped low in his gut. Haru was staring.

"Your...teeth..."

"I'm sorry, Haru, I can--"

"Can I touch them?"

Makoto's mouth opened and closed. "I'm. What?"

"Your teeth," Haru repeated, mesmerised gaze stuck on the retracted canines. "Can I...?" his hand twitched, hovering in the air between them. Bewildered still, Makoto finally managed a nod.

Haru's fingers were cool and smooth when they brushed past Makoto's lips and prodded at his gums. Immediately, the taste of his skin flooded Makoto's mouth; he tried and failed to contain his gasp, eyes fluttering. Haru's gaze was measured and controlled while he felt the length of the taller's retracted canines. Makoto was shaking; he could feel it, a full-body shudder that wouldn't let up, Haru's lidded eyes burning into his mouth while his fingers stroked and prodded. Eventually, he retracted his hand; his pupils had grown huge again, blue swallowed by black.

The way Haru was looking at him, his resolve wasn't going to last long. He could already feel himself slipping up, his frame shaking, wanting to push Haru into the wall. He was  _horrified_ at himself. What would Haru say, if he knew that--

"Are they strong?"

Makoto blinked. "I--" he started, but couldn't finish the thought. "What?"

"Like," Haru licked his lips, unable to draw his gaze from where it was pointedly stuck on the other's mouth, "your teeth. Can you. Um. Bite things?"

Of course he could bite things. He tilted his head at Haru, concerned that he wasn't thinking straight.

"Haru? Are you--"

"I've heard stories," he interrupted, and finally,  _finally,_ met Makoto's gaze. "No one believes them or anything. They're just stories. People who are like wolves. Like, um." He licked his lips again, dropping his gaze. "Werewolves, but..."

It was quiet. Makoto could hear people walking by on the street, unaware that just metres away lurking in the darkness was a monster and a boy too innocent for his own good--

"I won't hurt you, Haru."

His eyes shone. "And if I want you to?"

Maybe not so innocent after all. Makoto swallowed visibly past the lump in his throat.

"I thought you seemed on edge," Haru continued, watching the taller carefully as he reached back up to pull back his top lip. Makoto felt humiliated, exposed and out of control. Haru dropped his thumbs, tracing instead the hard line of Makoto's jaw. "Distracted by something."

"You smell like an Omega," he blurted out, and the shock made Haru drop his hands. His eyes had widened again.

"What?"

"Um..." Makoto fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket, unable to meet Haru's eyes for a moment. "I-in wolf... terms, it's like--"

"I know what an Omega is," Haru said, "I just didn't expect to smell like one."

Makoto was definitely blushing now. Haru's 'why?' was barely audible, and he couldn't bring himself to look at his date properly. "I don't know," he murmured, gaze cast downwards. "Some humans just do. I-it's usually, um. Do you have any pets?"

"Huh? What's with this question all of a sudden? I have a few cats. Why?"

"A... a few..." Makoto trailed off, waiting for his thoughts to catch up. "Sometimes it's humans who spend a lot of time with animals, but... for a scent that strong..." he sighed, the sound shuddering in his throat. "I can't explain it."

Haru stepped closer to him. He wanted so desperately to convey with his eyes that Haru needed to go in the other direction. As if entirely impervious to his internal meltdown, Haru leaned up on his toes so that he could whisper in Makoto's ear. "Take me home."

Makoto's expression twisted into one of pain. "You are uncomfortable. I'm sorry, I'll--"

"No," Haru said, scowling up at him, and Makoto hated to think it, but it was  _cute._ "I mean, take me home with you."


	3. Chapter 3

The whole car ride Makoto spent trembling, shaking with the thought of what was to come. Haru appeared eerily calm, if not simply reserved, conserving the nervous energy Makoto knew had been a intrinsic part of him only minutes earlier.

Makoto, on the other hand, was practically  _vibrating,_ shooting haphazard glances Haru's way every few moments. Haru could clearly tell. He looked smug about it, meeting Makoto's gaze at one point and quite literally drawing the breath out of him.

He could feel his control slipping; he was already using all of his strength just to remain upright in his seat. His hands were gripped so firmly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white, and every now and again Haru would shift in his seat and his scent would hit Makoto at full blast and the Alpha would have to physically restrain himself from pulling the car over on the side of the road and having his way.

Things got trickier once they were back at Makoto's.

He'd never brought a date home before, so he wasn't sure what to expect.

The moment he had Haru inside-- and he wasn't even sure when it happened-- he had him pressed up against the wall adjacent to the door, catching his gasp in an open-mouthed kiss. The shorter fumbled, hand smacking out blindly to shut the door and avoid giving the neighbours a show, but Makoto was too far gone. He pulled back to gasp hotly into Haru's neck, sharp teeth hovering just above the pale flesh. Haru shuddered when they brushed skin.

"Do you still--"

"Yes," Haru interrupted, not letting him speak.

A full body shiver rolled through Makoto. The smell was ebbing off of Haru now, as if exerted through his pores with every heartbeat. Despite the clear permission, Makoto held back.

"Haru," he breathed, the word puffing out in a hot breath, "I'm. If I start now, I won't be able to--"

"I said it's okay, didn't I? Idiot." He pulled back to look at Haru, surprised to hear the embarrassment leaking its way into his tone. His eyes were diverted, a dark hue colouring his cheekbones. "I'm not good at talking about that kind of thing. Or... translating what I want. But I want this." He met Makoto's eyes, searing blue. "Want you." Punctuating the sentence, he rolled his hips upwards. The angle was a little awkward, and the height Makoto had on him made the position not quite right for friction, but the intent behind it caused a surprised moan to tumble past his lips. He felt his gaze darken, pupils dominating his expression. His voice was significantly lower when he spoke. "If I hurt you, and you want me to stop, you have to tell me right away."

Haru nodded.

"You're--"

"Please."

The word tumbled out, shocking Makoto still for a moment. Haru said it again, and--

His restraint slipped. Makoto pushed him by the hips against the wall, so that his spine straightened, and went for his neck.

The animalistic  _whine_ that escaped Haru at the feeling of teeth on his neck was emboldening; he tipped it back, giving Makoto more access, giving the impression of an Omega submitting to vulnerability. Makoto pushed his hands up under Haru's shirt, thumbs finding the jutting lines of his hips and drawing hard circles. He was shaking, shaking in a  _good_ way, and the noises tumbling out of his mouth couldn't have been birthed of anything other than unbidden pleasure. Makoto kept his low, heady gaze fixed to the other, peaking from under a forest of lashes when he kissed the breath out of Haru.

He'd just started to fumble at the zipper on Haru's jeans when the shorter wrenched his head away from the kiss, panting out some half-formed, jagged sentence that they should probably move on to the bedroom.

The feeling of being crouched on all fours over Haru was empowering. He was hard; he could feel it, knew Haru must have felt it, brushing against his thigh whenever Makoto moved forward to mouth at his neck or chest. He suspected Haru felt somewhat self-conscious being the only half-dressed one, and pulled away to take his own shirt off after a while; that was about all the time he felt he could spare to the cause, and lunged right back in. He cupped Haru through his boxers, drinking in the sounds from his open mouth.

"Wait," Haru said, as soon as Makoto started to pull his boxers down over his hips. "Wait wait  _wait,_ holy shit, lube--"

"I've got it," Makoto reassured him, wondering how he could find the patience to place a perfunctory kiss against Haru's stomach when he was trembling, body heat suffocating him, head like cotton. His hands kept curling in and out of fists and his teeth were killing him, begging to bite and sink into whatever flesh was available; his whole body was thrumming with the innate need to dominate. He left Haru for only a moment to fish around his bedside drawers, coming back with a bottle of lube. Haru's breathing was harsh-- he must not have been aware of himself, too far gone to notice that he was practically whining on every exhale. Makoto bent his head to place hot, open-mouthed kisses against Haru's inner thighs, revelling in how he could feel the muscles trembling against his cheek.

"I want to try something," he breathed, feeling the way his breath shuddered against Haru's boxers. There was a little wet spot there; Makoto wanted to lick it. "Can I?"

Haru leant up on his elbows, squinting. Waiting to hear. When it became clear that he had the other's attention, Makoto's tongue darted out to wet his lips, mind foggy and spinning. "I want to... well. I want to eat you. Out. Um." He bent his head again to kiss Haru's thigh, licking along the edge of his boxers, shoulders squaring and shaking. He looked back up again, eyes dark. "Can I?"

Haru's eyes were wide, like he couldn't work out how to answer. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded.

The thought that Haru had cleaned himself-- prepared for this,  _thought about it_ \-- made Makoto absurdly pleased. Selfish possessiveness spurred him on. He shifted Haru so that he was lying comfortably on his elbows, hips raised into the air, though he was almost certain Haru knew that it was more for Makoto's benefit than his. He worked a finger into him slowly, listening to the way it altered Haru's breath. He was losing the ability to control his actions, and losing it quickly. It wasn't long before he managed another one, and abruptly wondered if-- and when, how many times perhaps-- Haru had done this to himself.

"You can-- I'm--" Haru's breath caught as Makoto's finger slipped, going a little bit deeper, just shy of where, Makoto knew, he wanted it most.

"You're doing good," he breathed, unable to help himself. Alpha hormones were flooding his brain and making it hard to think, to control his voice. "You look so good like this. Pretty."

Haru whined.

The first brush of his mouth against Haru had the other shuddering a sigh, pushing his hips back in an attempt to get Makoto to hurry up. And it was hard not to-- within moments he was pushing his fingers back in, all too eager to give Haru what he wanted, to draw more of those high, airy,  _submissive_ noises from him. He licked hot and deep, pulling back to suck, pushing his face in to absolutely worship. Before long Haru was moving with him, pushing his hips back to meet Makoto's fingers, needing them deeper always, needing more. "Gonna," he stammered, voice catching. "Ah-- Makoto--"

That was all the warning he got before Haru was coming, dropping down from his elbows with a shuddering sigh.

Makoto underestimated the effect it would have on him; he rested his head against Haru's hip, breathing harshly. His entire body was shaking now, his breath coming hot and wet. He needed to take his jeans off, it  _hurt,_ he had never wanted to bite or to take or to fuck so much in his life--

"Hey, Makoto." He opened his eyes at Haru's voice, not having realised he'd shut them. The sight of Haru made him reel back. Haru, with his post-orgasm mussed hair, cheeks red, eyes glazed. Makoto could have cried. "Do you want to put it in?"

The question caught him off guard. His mouth opened and closed, words refusing to come out. Eventually, he managed a whine.

To his utmost horror, Haru  _smirked._ His eyes were blazing-- he must have known that Makoto was barely holding on to the last of his restraint now, that he still had the upper hand. Lowering his lashes, he breathed, " _Can_ you put it in? Makoto? Please."

Makoto broke.

Haru turned and watched as he stripped his pants off. He could have helped, but he sat there instead, leaning back on his elbows and seemingly content to watch Makoto fumble with the zipper on his jeans. He got there eventually, heaving a sigh as he pushed his boxers down over his thighs. Haru's eyes widened dramatically.

"Is-- is that going to. Um." He licked his lips. "Fit?"

Something darkened in Makoto. "You seem pretty confident," he said, lips twisting into a smile. "Shouldn't be too much for you, right?"

Makoto should have felt self conscious. Haru was watching intently as Makoto pushed into him, eyes wide and glued to where they were joined. Makoto's face was flushed; heat consumed him everywhere, ruling his every action. It was a miracle in self restraint that he wasn't just pinning Haru to the bed and fucking so hard into him that they both saw white. When he was seated inside Haru fully he held still, mouthing hotly at the brunette's neck while he waited for him to adjust. The nod was small. He almost didn't see it. Haru cried out on the first thrust.

Before long he was encouraging Haru to turn over, animalistic instinct gaining control. He was drooling, he could feel it; he was no longer in control of himself, and his nails scrabbled to gain support on the sheets, along Haru's ribcage when he tried to hold him upright. Haru tried to lean up on his elbows, slipping a number of times. He was hard again.

Makoto leant over Haru's back heavily, a low growl tearing from his throat. It seemed to encourage Haru; he must have still been sensitive, but he pushed his hips back against Makoto's, encouraging him to sink to the hilt faster, to hit deeper. Makoto mouthed at the back of his neck.

He realised something was wrong soon enough, but lacked the semblance to word what. It was deep, full-body, humming low in his gut and making his toes feel warm. He thrust into Haru faster, harder, seeing only white and dancing spots, knowing only that he had to get closer, fuck harder--

"Oh-- Haru, I'm--"

Knotting, he thought. Haru seemed to realise it at the same time he did; he heard the surprised intake of breath, knew the other must have felt it. It was too late to do anything now. A few more thrusts and he was coming, sinking his teeth into Haru's shoulder blade.

When he came out of his daze, Haru had moved them both onto their sides. At some point he had come, too; his thighs were sticky with it.

Makoto blinked as he tried to come back down to reality, realising in a slow-fast build up of panic what had happened. His teeth were retracting. He was stuck inside of Haru.

"I think... we're gonna be like this for a little while," Haru remarked casually, glancing back over his shoulder at Makoto. Makoto had never been so embarrassed in his life. Haru must have sensed it, because his mouth turned up into a small smile, his lids fluttering slowly. "I don't mind."

"I'm sorry," Makoto blurted anyway; he wanted to just get up and walk away, to apologise more and offer Haru a drink or some food or permission to leave and never talk to him again--

"What is there to be sorry about? Makoto. I asked for this."

"I was too rough. I could have hurt you. I--"

"You didn't. Besides..." Makoto didn't catch the last bit, tapering off into a mumble.

"I'm sorry?"

"I liked it," Haru repeated, and this time when he looked up he didn't look away.

They lay together like that for a while, Makoto wishing more than anything he could just turn Haru around and  _look_ at him. He didn't risk it for fearing of hurting one or both of them, and held Haru the only way he could; arms around his waist, nuzzling kisses onto his shoulder blades and the back of his neck and murmuring apologies. A blush began to creep its way over the other's pale skin, and it didn't subside until Makoto was able to pull out, soft, airy whispers between them. Haru squirmed, making a face.

"What is it? Are you in pain? Is it--"  
"Leaking. Um." Haru's face was reddening again. "Bathroom?" The end of the sentence tapered off into a question. Makoto pointed in the vague direction, trying to stifle his smile at the uncomfortable face Haru made on his way out.

He had more time to calm down while Haru was gone. Lethargic, thrumming with exhaustion, he did all he could to clean up; re-capped the lube, straightened the sheets worrying his lower lip at the lewdness of it. His teeth still ached somewhat from being out, but he didn't feel hot anymore, Alpha hormones having mostly resided. Now that his head was clear again, he had the presence of mind to feel appropriately horrified at himself. Surely Haru was just being polite, and really he was in excruciating pain and never wanted to speak to Makoto again.

Although, Makoto reasoned, lying out of courtesy wasn't exactly the guy's style. He was blunt, and if he was really in pain he would have said so, no doubt.

He re-entered the room as if on cue, and Makoto dared a breathy giggle when he realised that Haru had gone without pants on. He was grimacing.

"It's not funny," he said, and only then did Makoto realise he was still grinning. He patted the bed next to him, the goofy grin yet to leave his face.

"Come here," he whispered.

Haru did. He dropped back into the other's arms like it was habit, allowing himself to be cradled.

"Stop smiling," Haru said, though he couldn't see Makoto's face, and there was no way for him to know whether he was.

"Happy," Makoto hummed in answer. Haru's answering noise was petulant above all.

"You know, I really... meant what I said," Haru murmured, after what felt like the longest time. He wasn't squirming under Makoto's gaze, but he certainly wasn't comfortable, either. Treading unfamiliar territory, that was all.

"I don't mind. About you. And I..." he sucked in a breath. "Enjoyed it. Felt good. And stuff."

"And stuff," Makoto teased, and apparently that was all he was getting out of Haru because the other was suddenly burying his face in Makoto's neck, hiding his expression. His lips were brushing Makoto's skin, and despite being literally  _inside of him_ only minutes earlier, it sent shivers up his spine.

If this was what it was going to be like, Makoto thought, then he might not mind sticking around.


End file.
